


Tales From the Phantasm Department

by Helicon



Series: Reasons Not To Stroke Helicon's Author Ego [4]
Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Belly Kink, Gen, Gore, Mensis-Style Experimentation, Mild Humor, Non-Sexual Kink Pandering, SCIENCE!, Unbirthing, Unethical Experimentation, broke college students are broke, bursting, nothing bad happens to him I promise, oh Edgar you poor fucker, slugs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 18:44:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12488380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helicon/pseuds/Helicon
Summary: Your guide on how to breed a phantasm, as demonstrated by a Choir spy and a Mensis biologist.





	Tales From the Phantasm Department

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fractalanatomy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fractalanatomy/gifts).



> Welcome to the first passable thing I wrote after hitting my head so hard it killed for a full week. I'm disgusted at myself too. Loved writing it though.

_"_ You!”

Edgar looked. He should never have looked. Of course the man was talking to him, there was no one else not already preoccupied, but still… maybe if he'd ignored him.

He put on a smile and waved back to the man trying to get his attention. ‘Trying’ was too inaccurate a word, he was dead set on it. His dark eyes gleamed, a sharp grin offset his soft features, and he approached Edgar with a determination he'd only seen of students this close to a discovery. “Yes? Do you need something?”

“Good, we are already on the same page. Come with me?” Leaving no room for dissent, the man walked off, and Edgar had no choice but to follow.

“Where are we going, then?”

“To the lab. I have a project that could potentially ease contact with the Great Ones, sir, and you are going to help me!”

Edgar swallowed. This could very well mean death; not long ago he'd seen a student disappear forever after the school’s headmaster summoned him up for similar ‘research’. It would not do for him to die, but on the other hand, it certainly would for him to have this knowledge…

“How so?”

“Go down to the gaol and have three prisoners brought up, tell the keeper that Naaji wants them and he’ll know where they go. In good health, please, no twisted Yharnamites, and relatively young -- not too young, there is a line. At least one woman if you can. Dose of emetics for two of them and a thorough enema for one of those two, very important that one of them is fully clean. Oh -- and be sure they are restrained. We cannot have them leaving, this may not be crucial but it _is_ important…” He clicked his tongue. “I'd rather you not bring them up yourself. The Pthumerians will do it well enough, just follow them. I will set things up.” A quiet giggle escaped Naaji as he left, and Edgar shuddered, but he did as he was told anyway.

 _At least one woman._ How twisted, though he couldn't rationalize it against anything. It wasn't as if the Choir was above… whatever Naaji planned to do with at least one woman.

* * *

 

“Good, good. If you could be lovely and tie that one to the pole there, her ankles too, I don’t want them touching… thank you.”

Edgar could scarcely believe what he was seeing. The muscular Pthumerian male straightened and gave Naaji a curt nod, which he returned, and left so the two could admire their rope-gagged subjects. Or Naaji could, anyway. Only one was fully clothed, and cuffed to a heavy chair in any case. The other two, decidedly male and female, had been tied to a thick wooden pole stretching from the floor to the rafters, legs spread apart and barely lucid in their bloomers.

When he looked to Naaji, there was a glowing jar held delicately in his large hands. Phantasms. Suddenly it struck Edgar what he had planned, or at least a theory, and somehow he was unsurprised. Something about the headmaster making a discovery, the Great Ones use humans as a sort of conduit -- and this he already knew, at least of the Church women made to bear celestial offspring by the Choir -- but mankind could do the same. Achieve contact through use of the human body.

It seemed that Naaji was intent on following the same path.

“Hold these?” It wasn't a question. Edgar found himself saddled with the phantasm jar.

“What is it you have planned?” He adjusted his glasses with the lid.

“My partner and I recently discovered a certain property of phantasms that could make contact much less of an ideal. Unfortunately, she could not be with us… but it doesn't matter, you are here to help me make notes for her.” His jaw set for a moment. “Phantasms can be mated, they have no definite sex so you can just slap two together and get a baby, but they have very specific requirements that must be met if they're to reproduce.”

“Such as?”

“Heat, for one. And they need to be… willing. And comfortable. You cannot force phantasms to mate. What my partner found,” he continued with an eerie smile forming. “is that the temperature most phantasms can comfortably breed at is _remarkably_ similar to the internal temperature of the human body.”

Edgar heaved a sigh of relief as Naaji took the jar from him, to open. “So you intend to… what, use these prisoners to breed phantasms?”

“Exactly.”

That should have been _exactly_ as frightening as it was to hear.

“How are you going to make them comfortable enough?”

“Easy.” Naaji let a thick slug curl around his fingers before placing it between the spread legs of the half-naked man, and produced a knife from his coat to slice open and remove his underwear. “What you do--oh, please be quiet, you'll wake them both…” He looked toward the man in the chair, his horrified screams muffled by his gag. “Now, then…” He slicked his fingers with the ooze secreted by the phantasm and slowly worked the prisoner open.

Edgar looked on, pale and swearing that the floor had started to spin.

“The trouble is finding where they'll reproduce faster, or at least yield proper healthy offspring. I have little faith in the one over there,” he said, gesturing toward the frightened man. “But only because if he is our number one, I owe my partner serious money that I _do not have.”_

As Naaji spoke, the prisoner began to stir, and the phantasm slithered curiously toward his spread ass.

Morbid curiosity forced Edgar to ask: “...So what if she was wrong?”

“Then _she_ owes _me_ the money. That's if we’re left with the woman.”

“And the man you’re working on now?”

“Then I live with the shame of having led a slug into a man’s asshole and she lives with the shame of proposing the idea.”

Naaji’s kneeling body was a barrier behind the phantasm, giving it no other place to go but not pushing it in. The scent of its own drove it forward at any rate, nudging its head in and working the rest of its body through the muscle that the scholar continued easing open. The man’s eyes fluttered open -- “The morphine on my desk, if you will; I still need him conscious but not enough to be aware.”

“And the needle?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Edgar gingerly placed the syringe into Naaji’s waiting hand. This was insane -- the woman he might understand, but the male body was _never_ intended to house a living organism. Now he couldn't back out of it. Not for morality or his own wellbeing, it would be too suspicious to leave now that Naaji had shared with him this strange method. He watched the phantasm disappear, the numbing drug being drawn from its bottle and injected into a visible vein in the man’s arm, all as bile rose in his throat.

“Could you pass me another phantasm now? It should go in easy now, and then we can work on the woman.”

His gaze passed to the gagged man as he pulled a slug from the jar and almost robotically handed it to Naaji. It looked almost as if there was some sadistic method to this, making the one conscious subject witness his own fate as performed upon the bodies of complete strangers, but something about this particular scholar gave Edgar the impression that it wasn't his intention. He was clever but unaware, and somehow, that only made it worse.

The second phantasm was all too eager to join its fellow.

“Good, we can leave them to it.” From an assortment of shiny metal tools on the desk, Naaji retrieved a long pair of pincers and an instrument like a duck’s bill cast in steel. “If you were wondering why the woman was far more sedated, you're about to find out.” Her undergarments received the same treatment as the man’s, and Naaji spread her outer lips with fingers still slicked by arcane ooze. His thumb circled momentarily over the top of the cleft, and Edgar’s stomach dropped -- not quite at her violation, but at the straight face Naaji held the whole time. If he was getting any satisfaction out of this, he certainly wasn't showing it. “It’s easier to work with the man than with the woman because there aren't… parts, that you need outside help to open. The cervix especially, it is not supposed to be opened from the outside at all, _ever_ , and to have her awake during the procedure is just more noise and struggling than I have the capacity to deal with. Also, it's completely barbaric…

“Actually, come to think of it, there’s a Jennings on the desk there, if you could work on our other guest… I need space for this one.”

“Right, right…” Edgar turned the metal clamp in his hands as he approached the restrained man, who squirmed in fruitless desperation to get away. Four phantasms wriggled inside the jar, in the corner of his eye Naaji had already picked up the pincers -- the tenaculum, he was fairly sure -- and was laid on his side to get a better look.

When he removed the rope gag, the prisoner clamped his mouth shut with full knowledge of what was going to happen to him. “Pinch his nose,” Naaji stated matter-of-factly. “He’ll have to breathe eventually.”

Edgar huffed out of his nose and covered the prisoner’s last remaining airway, forcing him to open his mouth with the fear of God entering his watery eyes. He took that moment to jam the gag in, ratchet his jaw wide open, and reach into the jar to pluck out a skinnier phantasm by the tail end. It wiggled and writhed, slapping about wetly in his fingers. Though the man turned and shook his head, his efforts were no match for Edgar straddling his lap and grabbing the back of his skull with one hand as he dropped the phantasm in, holding the other hand over his mouth as he swallowed on reflex.

One down, one to go, two phantasms left in the jar because Naaji was already gently prompting one into the gaping entrance of the woman before him. He whispered to it in a songlike language Edgar could only identify of one hailing from the far southeast. It would have been beautiful to listen to if he didn't have some idea of what he was saying to it.

* * *

 

Naaji prodded the bound man’s writhing guts with the end of his pen, and then jotted down some notes. “Looks like Eveline will be getting her win, if he survives.” He clicked his tongue and looked over to the two on the floor, who were slowly returning to consciousness. “You can relieve them of their bindings, Edgar, neither of them will be going anywhere.”

“The door is locked?”

“Just keep their legs tied.”

“Ah. They won't try to undo the ropes?”

Naaji hummed. “You're right. We don't have cuffs on us, do we… I couldn't trouble you with retrieving a couple pairs, could I?”

“I don't see how that would help now, they're waking up. See?”

The man woke up first, his murmurs muffled, drowsy eyes scanning the room and landing on his fellows. Of course he screamed, it was only natural. Naaji strode over to his side and cupped the side of his face, shushing him. “Hush, now, everything is alright… You are in good hands.”

“Naaji, we have some progress over here!” Edgar tried to keep a straight face and neutral eyes as he tapped Naaji’s shoulder and gestured to the man in the chair. His breathing had shallowed and his back arched up as he gasped and struggled for proper air. When he immediately began to retch, sweat beading on his face and hands, pale and trembling, Edgar slapped a hand over his mouth -- a little too enthusiastically to look legitimate, he thought, but Naaji went along with it.

A slug-shaped lump formed under the man’s skin, then another curling around it. “Excellent,” Naaji murmured, jotting a few more things into his notebook. “The other ones seem to be mating just fine as well, so at this rate we can leave them alone for the most part until we have more results.”

“How long, then?”

“Give them a few days.” Naaji set down his book and rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Eveline can eat her heart out,” he whispered to Edgar. “The human stomach has a surprisingly low capacity when not slowly eased into a higher tolerance.”

“And the uterus doesn't?”

“It's certainly made to handle holding a little more. She's softer, you see? She can take it.”

“What of our other man, then?”

“That's about nine meters of growing room they have there, but that’s all dependent on how much the rest of his body can take… we’ll keep an eye on both men in particular. I don't want anything coming out of them until we are ready for it.”

* * *

 

10/8

_Uncontrollable vomiting in subject A (male Yharnamite, early 20s, showing no sign of blood-related mutation) resulting in loss of specimen eggs. Presumably due to personal discomfort as opposed to internal irritation. Experiment to be continued beyond expected timeframe, with A under heavy sedation._

_Subject B (male northerner, mid 30s, seemingly of Cainhurst descent) showing usual signs of discomfort, reports “wriggling” and pinching sensations in lower abdomen. No outward changes._

_Subject C (female Yharnamite, mid 20s, history with Healing Church but no sign of mutation) has woken up recently complaining of cervical pain, to be expected after forced dilation. Currently showing reasonable levels of anxiety. Reported “fluttering” and faint ringing in ears. C to be monitored for further development as this may preclude eldritch contact.  
-Naaji_

10/9

_A has expired unexpectedly overnight. B and C required sedation to prevent panic. Both phantasms have been removed from the body for further examination. Both appear to have impregnated the other but show no signs of laying soon. Eat my ass, Eveline, now either I win or we both lose.  
-Naaji_

10/10

_Subjects B and C both report movement of the original phantasms, suggesting they have entered a mating stage yet again; A’s phantasms have been introduced to them both, one each. B complains of intestinal pain and examination of C after complaints of a full feeling in the uterus (separate from the new phantasm) has revealed abnormal and high levels of saline fluid discharge. The whole lab smells like seawater.  
-Edgar_

10/18

_The addition of a third phantasm to the mating pair appears to have at least tripled egg output as both subjects report feeling severely bloated. Examination reveals 3cm lumps beneath the skin of subject B, no sign of change in subject C due to thicker fat layer in the lower abdominal area but it can be assumed she is in the same condition.  
-Edgar_

10/23

_Phantasms in both B and C have entered their third mating phase, completely unprecedented!  
-Naaji_

10/26

_Visible swelling has been noted in subjects B and C, who have grown more complacent with examination and even friendly. C complains of whispers beyond her hearing. Both subjects have been allowed freedom from their bonds but are content to remain where we put them.  
-Edgar_

10/30

_B and C have both become restless after half a week of relative calm and no change. B reports tremors inside of his body. C has taken to the corner to rub and murmur at her belly. Possible indication of hatching of first set of eggs? No activity reported regarding the three adult phantasms.  
-Naaji_

10/31

_Hatching has begun, causing a growth spurt of concerning size in the abdominal regions of both B and C. Subjects have been restrained and will be closely monitored as it appears the hatching of the first set of eggs has set off a chain reaction, causing the rest of the phantasms to hatch and grow to the size of their siblings.  
-Edgar_

* * *

 

“Hold her! Edgar, you can leave him, help me hold her down--”

Naaji frantically tightened the bonds around the arms of the thrashing woman while Edgar sat all his weight down on her legs, his nauseating curiosity leading him to rest his hands on her belly for both support for him and comfort for her. It had swollen to the point where her once-oversized prison shirt had lost room to hold her, and was tearing more at the seams by the moment. Her navel had popped half an hour ago and was already on its way to becoming flat again, pulled tight by the need for room of the brood of slugs she carried. Her breath came in heaves, blood dribbled out her ears and tear ducts, and the squirming of so many newly-hatched phantasms under her taut skin -- under his hands -- made Edgar’s stomach lurch.

“Come on, come on, get off of her now, I'm going to try to get them out,” Naaji muttered as he barely had to shove Edgar out of his way to spread open the woman’s legs, tools now in hand.

All the muscle in that same part of her body had been stretched beyond use by the massive growth of her middle, towering an impossible size over her and pinning her core to the wooden floor. It didn't stop her from screaming and crying out -- and nor did it stop the man from reacting in a similar way, despite only having grown half as full. Her belly trembled with the movement of the slugs inside and then ceased to grow, but still pulsed with the eldritch life that it could barely contain.

Naaji huffed and pried her open enough to grasp the tail of a phantasm between two fingers, and just like that, the woman went silent. “Edgar, check her pulse for me.”

There was a faint beat beneath his fingertips on her throat. “She's alive, but she must have passed out from the pain.”

“That's all well and good enough, things are looking grim…”

With the removal of one phantasm came the escape of many others, pouring out onto the floor and clamoring for space at the exit of her uterus to get out.

“Go handle B for a moment! I've got this under control,” Naaji said as he swiped through her cervix to try and clear the blockage.

The man whose side Edgar situated himself at had started to cry in despair, unable to form words as he clenched his bound fists and shifted his hips in vain for some comfort. His belly continued to surge outward, centimeter by centimeter until his navel became flat with his skin, the imprints of phantasms that had been pushed to the top of the mass growing inside of him clear beneath his strained flesh.

Suddenly Naaji’s focused mutters took on a frightened note. “Edgar, take him to the other side of the room. Far away from us as possible.”

“It isn't going well?” Edgar asked as he undid the ropes binding the man’s wrists.

“ _Go that way,_ ” he growled, pointing the opposite direction of the wall he was backing up towards.

From the way Naaji turned his head upwards and made for the door, Edgar could theorize what was about to happen. He still dragged the man behind a desk on the other side, trying to get him to lay back down when all he would do was kneel on all fours in front of him with his legs spread, panting, moaning and clutching his heavy, shifting stomach with one hand.

A sick, deafening _BANG_ left Edgar’s ears ringing; viscera, blood, and phantasms hit the walls and fell down upon him, the prisoner, and Naaji as a slug squeezed willingly out of the prisoner and fell to the floor with a quiet _plop_.

As soon as his head stopped pounding, Edgar looked up to find Naaji crouched behind their living prisoner, gore wiped from his face but covering his body in a shiny sheet of pink, knuckle deep and spreading the man’s ass to facilitate further expulsion of the phantasms within him.

“Shame, really, I was counting on her…”

The creak of the door opening ended up masked by the squelch of more phantasms making their way out, but Naaji’s attention was drawn away when the visitor spoke.

“...I see you’ve gone ‘n done it without me, Nudge?”

Edgar snorted despite the vomit roiling in his stomach. Naaji elbowed him hard in the guts, and the prisoner choked down a sob.

“Who's that with you there?”

“Edgar. I needed an assistant, Eveline, and you were gone…”

“Results?”

“Neither of us were right, but if you could gather up all the phantasms all over the place, I'll give you my notes and you can bring them to the headmaster. I just need to put down the final report…”


End file.
